Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Through Hell

My divorce has completely DESTROYED me. It came totally out of nowhere while I was completely and totally in love with him. I can't even think about filling that void. I've had a few stupid flings, because I'm human, but they just made me feel even emptier. They reminded me how much I miss the intimacy I shared with my husband. Or what I perceived as intimacy because right now I doubt any of his feelings for me were real. I'm pretty sure I was used. 

Before him, I was married for 15 years and have two kids. I really believed both my marriages would last forever, until death do we part. I was in it for the long haul. I believed in marriage. But not anymore.  Now I have to just be okay with being alone. That, in and of itself, is really hard for me to take. I love giving and receiving love. It's something I do well and something I felt I was meant to do, to be part of a couple and make a family, but it's never really worked out for me that way. I guess my own expectations and disappointment are bigger hurdles to overcome than the actual events which have occurred.

And the events are nothing short of tragic. 

If I could somehow calm the raging typhoon of memories that obliterate me from the inside out, maybe I could find peace and maybe I could sleep. Because it even assaults me in my sleep. I'm afraid to dream. I am so, so tired of being broken and feeling like I wasn't good enough. All I want is answers. Time hasn't passed enough for me to get over this. I don't know how long it will take but it's going to take longer than this, much longer than this. I hope he knows what he's done and the destruction he's caused. Then again, that seems to be what he wants, for me to suffer. He knows I almost died yet he laughed at me. He laughed. This is how I know it's not me, because it takes a sick, sick motherfucker to laugh at someone's death.  

I've never tried to kill myself before. I've been depressed before but never to the point of suicide. I still don't want to die, I never did, but I couldnt find any other way to stop the pain. There's nothing I can fine to stop it. 

So I lost my shit; my middling bipolar went apeshit and I had a full blown manic episode where I cut my wrists and arms open in about 20 places then drove my car off the road at 120 mph. I don't remember any of it. I was brought by ambulance to the hospital and the only thing I remember is that my arms were bandaged and they were examining my bag for anything I could use to kill myself. They took everything but an old diaper and a jar of baby powder. 
Since the hospital, I don't sleep. I was the problem patient wandering the halls at 4 am singing, that needed to be held down and shot with Thorazine, or whatever that magic knock-out cocktail is.
When I do sleep, I have nightmares. I'm trying to find John in the fog and it clears and I'm suddenly standing on a pier and he's on a sinking ship.
Or he's reaching for me through a tunnel and I can see his hand but can't quite reach. 
Or Cullen is about to be hit by a car or a train and I can't get to him in time.
Just a few delightful examples.

I can't do much else but try to physically recover right now. I have lupus and fibromyalgia in addition to bipolar and PTSD and I need to have surgery on my cervical spine. Medically, I'm a total mess, really sad for a 45 year old woman who had been totally healthy. 

I had a second manic episode recently, that had been working itself up over about ten days and then hit the fan. I loved throwing up on my friend Mary's lawn. I was visiting her and suddenly, I needed air. I ran out the front door and projectile vomited like four times all over the lawn while she chased me with a tray of crackers trying to stop the flow of vomit. It would be hysterical if it wasn't so pathetic. 

I made a bunch of appointments for all my various ailments, my broke ass brain, my broke ass spine, and my broke ass immune system. Im trying to jam it all in before I lose my insurance. Then I'm fucked. The ex is in a big damn hurry to dump me and make sure my sick ass has no access to healthcare. I already failed to qualify for Medicaid.  I need someone to help me. Looking at the instructions for medicaid or disability, I get so confused and can't actually read the writing. After two manic episodes and the loads of meds I take every day, my short term memory and comprehension is shot. 
Words spin around into visual swirls and then I hear laughing. So I'm truly losing my shit. Auditory hallucinations are somewhat "normal" after a "manic event" and can be side effects of my meds, but I'm not okay with any of this. 

I'm terrified. 
My life as I knew it is over. 
And not in a good way.